[He observes the gift from the past like it's a delicate antique from a museum, the kind only a curator is allowed to handle. He has very, very few things from his past remaining; his car has been remade over and over and is gone now, and his jacket is a frankenstein monster of different leathers and stitches. His body is all that really remains of his old life, and it's not much better off... Another kind of frankensteined thing, with scar tissue and pock marks in his hair.
(... But healthier looking; much healthier looking than the man she'd found her first day in Etraya. Fuller in his face. Cleaner. At ease, here in this apartment--?)
He hums in acknowledgement, looking a touch amused.]
no subject
(... But healthier looking; much healthier looking than the man she'd found her first day in Etraya. Fuller in his face. Cleaner. At ease, here in this apartment--?)
He hums in acknowledgement, looking a touch amused.]
... Seems unfair.
You skipped the threats with me.